The only thing I miss about working in an office this time of year is access to one of these bad boys:
At my last job I sat dangerously close to the break room (like 2 feet), so I had my choice of any holiday fatness my heart desired. Now if I want a special treat I have to actually walk my 8+ month pregnant behind into the store and buy it. It's all just too cliché and sad to do. So I mostly don't. Which is good.
And it's also so hard to justify buying 5 pounds of popcorn for yourself, no matter the time of year.
But it doesn't mean I can't still dream of taking a little hand bath in a caramel, cheddar, original menage trois. Can I get an AMEN!?
And Happy Holidays!
